


A little bit of ivory

by Kalypso



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Gen, Note on pockets, Phenomenal kissing (eventually)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalypso/pseuds/Kalypso
Summary: Jane Austen is staying with friends in Hampshire when a quiet afternoon takes an unexpected turn with the arrival of two visitors.  Why are Miss Oswald and the Doctor so keen to meet her?  The encounter leads Jane to a decision which may change her life.





	1. Visitors at Manydown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AJHall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJHall/gifts).



> This is the first episode of what I expect to be a two-part story; when I realised I wasn't going to finish it on time, I decided I could make a virtue of the _Doctor Who_ format and have a cliff-hanger. I hope the second episode won't be too long coming... (ETA: it took ten months.)
> 
> Thanks to [fengirl88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88) for persuading me to keep going.

Miss Jane Austen was a few weeks short of her twenty-seventh birthday when she arrived at Manydown Park in the county of Hampshire to visit her friends the Miss Biggs. It was a relief for Jane and for her sister Cassandra to be back in the country; since her father had retired as the rector of Steventon, they had taken rooms in Bath, but the city did not agree with them, and they were looking forward to the quiet comfort of Manydown with Catherine and Alethea.

The only minor irritation for Jane was that her friends' younger brother was in residence; though no longer a schoolboy – he missed no opportunity to remind them that he had recently come down from Oxford – he had yet to learn that the opinions of young gentlemen, however educated, are not always welcome in the conversations of young ladies. In Jane’s experience, this was not unusual for his sex. Even so, he seemed peculiarly anxious to speak to her whenever he had the opportunity.

But on the first of December he had gone riding, and the ladies were enjoying a quiet afternoon playing cards when a servant entered the drawing-room to announce visitors.

"Who can it be?" asked Alethea. "I am sure that no one is expected."

"A lady and gentleman, madam, who have taken a house near Kingsclere. They showed me a letter of introduction from Lady Portsmouth."

"Ah, well... you had better show them in, Lawrence."

A minute later, Lawrence returned, and announced: "The Doctor and Miss Oswald!"

"Excuse us for bursting in like this," said the Doctor. "But we've just moved into your charming neighbourhood, and my... ward couldn’t wait to meet the neighbours."

He was a tall gentleman, with grey curls and a Scotch accent, while Miss Oswald was small, with fine dark eyes and a lively manner. She studied each of the ladies intently as Catherine carried out the introductions, smiling at each of them, but Jane could not avoid the fancy that the smile was more brilliant when her own name was mentioned. And, although the Doctor had professed a wish to meet their neighbours, he and Miss Oswald seemed to make a point of sitting next to her, gazing at her with an odd air of expectation.

"Do you expect to be in Hampshire for a long time, Miss Oswald?" Cassandra asked.

"Oh!" Miss Oswald looked as if she had not given this much thought. "Probably not."

"You come from the north," observed Jane.

"Er, yes, the accent is a bit of a giveaway, isn't it?"

"But your..." Uncle? Guardian? "...the Doctor is from Scotland."

"Um... yes."

"So what has brought you to these parts?"

"Oh, we like to travel," said the Doctor. "New places, new people."

There was a pause. Alethea evidently felt it her duty to advance the conversation. "Which places have you visited recently?"

Curiously, the expression on Miss Oswald's face suggested alarm. After a moment, she replied, "We went to a lake."

"The Lakes? I have heard they are most picturesque," said Alethea.

"Oh, yes!" said Miss Oswald. "I love the Lakes! I went with my parents."

"Your whole family was travelling, then?"

"No – that was a different lake. But we used to go to Coniston when I was little – before my mother died."

The ladies murmured sympathetically.

"My father's remarried now, they go to Windermere instead."

Perhaps there was some difficulty with the stepmother which had caused Miss Oswald to leave his house and travel with a guardian. Though there was something very odd about both of them. The interesting thought struck Jane that the young lady might in fact be the gentleman's mistress, rather than his ward.

"And how did you meet Lady Portsmouth?" enquired Cassandra.

Miss Oswald's face was a blank.

"In London," the Doctor cut in. "At an assembly."

They were all struggling for something more to say when the door burst open, and Harris looked in, still wearing his riding clothes. "Oh! Hallo!" he said. "I didn't know we were having v-visitors."

Everyone stood up. "This is the Doctor, and Miss Oswald, who have taken a house in Kingsclere," said Catherine. "And this is my brother, Harris Bigg-Wither."

Miss Oswald's mouth twitched. "Pleased to meet you. But I must have misheard – I thought the family name was Bigg?"

"Ah, that’s my father's fault," said Harris. "We were all called Bigg, then he inherited this place from some c-cousins called Wither, so he changed it to Bigg-Wither, and my name too, but the girls stayed as they were. Bigg enough already, he said."

There was some polite laughter, and then another awkward silence, which was suddenly broken by a high-pitched sound coming from the Doctor's pocket. He pulled out a metal pipe – perhaps a musical instrument? Though it was not very tuneful, and Jane could not think how it had begun to play by itself, nor why its end was flashing with a green light.

The Doctor studied it, and then said "Well, this has been nice, but I'm afraid Clara and I must be off now. Goodbye!"

Miss Oswald looked round a little wildly. "So sorry... goodbye... Miss Austen... Miss Austen... Miss Bigg..."

They hurried out of the room. Jane could hear them speaking to Lawrence in the hall, and the front door opening, then closing.

"Well, they were a strange pair," said Harris.

"Indeed," said Cassandra thoughtfully. "I am not sure that they know Lady Portsmouth at all. Miss Oswald did not appear to recognise her name."

"By Jove!" exclaimed Harris. "You think they were impostors? Jewel-thieves, p-perhaps!"

Jane frowned. She was certain that Cassandra was right, but she doubted Harris's speculation. She could not shake off the sense that the visitors had been particularly interested in her, and she owned nothing worth stealing.

"Anyway," he said. "They were probably sc-scared off when they realised there was a _man_ in the house." He glanced proudly at Jane, and left the room to dress.

Jane walked to the window and looked out; though the light was fading, she could see Miss Oswald and the Doctor still standing in the house's large porch, in animated conversation. Curiosity lured her out into the hall; she leant against the door and listened.

"...so disappointing." That was Miss Oswald.

"Well, what did you expect? Did you think she'd look like the banknotes?"

"No, of course not! I haven't _seen_ the banknotes! All I know is they’re due out in 2017, and you won't let me go there!"

"No, no, 2017... you wouldn't like it."

"What, it's worse than Zygons and the Great Intelligence and your mad ex?"

"Which... oh, never mind. More like the Great Stupidity. What was wrong with Jane Austen?"

"She was just... boring! I know she wasn't pretty, I've seen Cassandra's sketch, but I thought she'd be dazzling and witty and we'd talk about literature."

"Always risky, meeting your heroes." He sniffed. "Anyway, you weren't too dazzling yourself. 'We went to a lake'?"

"I could hardly say we were _under_ the lake. With ghosts."

"She could have put it in a book. It would jazz up the gothic bits of _Northanger Abbey_."

"And then your sonic screwdriver goes off and wrecks any chance of a proper talk! Couldn't you put it on silent?"

"I wasn't expecting the advanced tech alert to go off in darkest Hampshire in 1802!"

"Are you sure you didn't just sit on it?"

"Possible, but we need to investigate. Come on."

Jane heard them walk away down the drive.

She was bewildered. Were they lunatics? How could anyone look like a banknote, or meet ghosts under a lake? Most of their words made no sense, and what did they mean by 2017? But three things were clear enough. They had come to see her; they knew about her writing, which no stranger should have seen; and Miss Oswald had been disappointed.

Somehow Jane felt wounded, though there was no obvious cause to care about the opinions of a young woman whose morals and reason were both in question. She wished she had been dazzling and witty, and spoken words to amaze Miss Oswald. She knew she would spend the rest of the evening reconstructing their conversation as it might have been, and imagining the admiration growing in those fine dark eyes.

"Miss Austen? What are you doing in the dark?"

It was Harris – Mr Bigg-Wither, she should call him now, though it was hard to remember that when she had known him since he was a child. He was coming downstairs, dressed for dinner.

"I fancied a change of air," she said. "But let us return to the drawing-room." She began to move, but he stood in her way; his lips kept parting wordlessly. Finally, he began.

"Please – Miss Austen – I have been hoping to speak to you p-privately. As you know, I have come down from Oxford, and I have been thinking about what to do with my life. Since my b-brother died, I am my father's heir; one day Manydown, and other houses besides, will be mine. As I don't need to make a living, there is nothing to stop me m-marrying at once. And I-I know I will never meet any woman I admire as much as you. P-please – Jane – will you do me the honour – will you be my wife?"

Now it was Jane who did not know what to say. Marrying Harris – her friends' little brother – seemed ridiculous. Yet... he _was_ a man now. He was twenty-one, and she... she was almost twenty-seven, and had long accepted that no suitor would come for plain, penniless Jane. And Manydown was a tempting prospect. When her father died, she would be able to offer a home to Cassandra and her mother. Alethea and Catherine would be delighted. It must be for the best.

He was speaking again. "I know about your writing. Alethea showed me a chapter of _Susan_. It's wonderful – so c-clever. I would never try to stop you doing that. I know I'm not as clever as you are – even though – Oxford – I j-just want to make you happy."

Did _everyone_ know about Susan and Northanger Abbey? Alethea had no right... But _he_ was not disappointed in her. He was dazzled, and he was dependable.

"Yes," Jane said. "I will marry you."

They went in to tell their sisters. The Miss Biggs were as happy as she had predicted; Cassandra was clearly longing to talk it over, but joined in the congratulations. Their talk would have to wait, as it was time for dinner; Jane and Harris sat side by side, and he was now chattering excitedly, but she felt dazed, and could barely speak.

After dinner, they sat down in the drawing-room, and Harris began to talk about how he wanted to have her painted – a portrait to keep by him until they could be married. "A miniature would be a f-fine thing!" he said. "I could have it in my pocket, and take it out whenever I thought of you – which w-would be all the time."

"Oh, you do not need to have it painted!" cried Cassandra. "I have done it myself, already. I copied my drawing of Jane on to a piece of ivory – it will be just the thing."

Jane suppressed her annoyance that her sister was bestowing this gift without asking her, but it offered the chance to escape for a little; she really did fancy a change of air. "I will go to our room and fetch it," she said.

Once upstairs, she sat down for a few minutes, staring out of the window. Then she went to the box where the little portrait lay, and lifted it out. It was not Cassandra's finest work, but then it was not her finest subject, either. It would do well enough for Harris Bigg-Wither.

She knew she could not stay and enjoy this quiet any longer. She walked down the dimly-lit passage towards the stairs.

And then she heard steps behind her, and a voice cried out:

"Stop! Surrender to the glorious Sontaran Empire!"


	2. The Soldier Upstairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After accepting a proposal of marriage from Harris Bigg-Wither, Jane Austen encounters a strange figure prowling the house. Can he really be a dangerous warrior, as the Doctor and Miss Oswald claim? And if so, what can she do to stop him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted the first half of this story ten months ago, and at the time I said I hoped the second episode wouldn't be too long coming... But the imminent arrival of the Thirteenth Doctor made me feel I had a deadline to clear the deck of fiction featuring the Twelfth. Apologies to anyone who's been waiting. This is the chapter with a kissing bit.

Jane looked round and saw a small figure in the shadows. A few years ago, she would have assumed it was Harris, playing some childish game; she knew of no other boys in the household, but perhaps it was the son of a servant? It seemed odd that he would be wandering by the bedrooms at this hour, but perhaps he had slipped away while his mother was busy in the kitchen. Still - if she was to live at Manydown, she wished to establish good terms with all its residents.

"I will not surrender!" she responded gaily. "I am a loyal subject of King George!"

"Are you a commander in King George’s army?"

"No... but two of my brothers serve in His Majesty's Navy."

The boy moved forward - and Jane gasped. He had the strangest head, completely hairless and shaped very much like a great plum pudding. Perhaps this was why she had not encountered him before; his family might fear exposing him to ridicule.

"And why do you not serve alongside them?" he asked. "Are you too weak to fight?"

He pointed the long black rod in his arms at her, as if it was a gun, though it bore little resemblance to one. She laughed.

"If the French invade Hampshire, I will do my best," she said. "But I am confident His Majesty’s soldiers - and the Navy, of course - will never let them cross the Channel."

"Quite right, too," said a Scotch voice behind her. "But I'm afraid this is a deadlier enemy than Napoleon."

Jane turned again, to see the Doctor and Miss Oswald standing in the corridor.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "This is a child, playing at soldiers. And what are you doing here?" Harris's theory about jewel-thieves was beginning to seem more plausible.

The Doctor spoke quietly, but with authority. "Miss Austen, please believe me: you and your friends are in mortal danger. Despite appearances, this is an adult warrior who probably has enough firepower in his hands to destroy the whole of this house."

"It's true," said Miss Oswald. "He's a Sontaran, from another world, with technology you can't imagine. The Doctor's sonic screwdriver alerted us..."

"The pipe that played itself?" asked Jane.

"Yes! We went to see what had set it off, and found his capsule - that's a sort of ship he travels in - then we tracked him back here, and saw him breaking in."

There was a snorting sound. "If you have finished... as you recognise my superior force, _are_ you going to surrender, or shall I kill you now?"

Miss Oswald stared at the warrior, who was a little shorter than she was. "Strax! It's you - isn't it? Strax!"

"No, I don't think it is, Clara," said the Doctor. "Probably the same clone batch, though. The Sontarans are all clones," he explained, looking at Jane. "You can tell by the probic vent on the back of the neck - their one weak point, but part of the cloning process, and useful for recharging." Turning to the figure Miss Oswald called a Sontaran, he asked "Do you know Commander Strax?"

The Sontaran snorted again. "There are thousands of us, I can hardly be expected to know them all. Did you meet this Strax in battle?"

"Well... sort of..." said Miss Oswald. "We've fought with him... I mean _alongside_ him..."

"Comrades in arms," interjected the Doctor. "It's an honour to meet you, Commander - er..."

"Commander Skorr, of the Tenth Sontaran Battle Fleet."

"The Tenth..." murmured the Doctor, as if trying to recall something. "So, what are you doing here, on your own? Are you lost?"

"Certainly not! I am on a reconnaissance mission, to find a suitable headquarters for our operation! This house will do well; you may choose between surrendering it to the Sontaran Empire, or a glorious death in battle."

"Ah!" exclaimed the Doctor. "But I should explain, this isn't our house; we're all visitors here. The owners..."

"J-Jane?" It was Harris's voice, coming from the stairs.

Miss Oswald and the Doctor jumped back, pressing themselves against the walls - but Commander Skorr pushed past, raising the rod which they had said was a dangerous weapon. Jane was still unsure whether to believe their fantastic story, but if it was true then Harris could be dead in a moment. Hurrying after the intruder, she saw a strange protuberance on the back of his neck, and remembered what the Doctor had said about a weak point. She slammed what she held in her hand against it; to her astonishment, the Commander buckled under the blow. The small piece of ivory bearing her portrait fractured, and part of it fell to the floor.

"Jane?" The voice was approaching, and Miss Oswald stared wildly at her.

Jane ran along the corridor to the stairs, and met Harris halfway down.

"W-what's going on? I th-thought I heard voices! Is someone there?"

"No one at all!" exclaimed Jane. "I was talking to myself."

"To yourself?"

"Yes - I was acting out a scene. From my novel. It helps me compose the story if I play the characters - I was speaking for both of them." She hoped Harris would not repeat this account of her methods to Cassandra, and that her sister would not contradict it if he did.

"I s-see," he said. "But... why now? You just went to fetch your picture."

She clenched her fist around what remained of the portrait, and looked down into the hall, where they had held their fateful conversation a couple of hours before. "I suddenly had an inspiration about the scene in which the heroine receives a proposal of marriage," she said.

"Ah!" he said, flushing with pleasure. "So this is for _S-Susan_?"

"Indeed! The idea was so powerful I had to work it out at once. In fact, if your sisters will excuse me, I think I should go back to my room and write it down before I forget any of it."

"Well..." he said. "We will d-do our best to entertain ourselves until you have s-satisfied the muse." He leaned forward and tentatively kissed her cheek, then looked embarrassed and ran down the stairs. "I will aw-wait you impatiently!"

Jane made her way back to Miss Oswald and the Doctor, who were bending over the fallen warrior. She stooped to pick up the other half of the ivory portrait, and pushed them both into her pocket*.

"Has he gone?" hissed Miss Oswald.

"Yes."

"Well done!"

"We've got to get Skorr out of the house," said the Doctor. "Is the coast clear?"

"I think so."

"Wait - you'd better carry the gun - we can't risk Sontaran weaponry falling into other hands," he said. "Careful, now, hold it - here - like this - don't touch anything that might go off. Clara, you take his feet, and I'll take the shoulders!"

They slowly descended the stairs, crossed the hall, and headed down a passage to a door opening on to the garden behind the house. As they reached the lawn, their burden began to groan.

"Quiet!" said the Doctor. "We'll put you down once we get to those bushes." They staggered across the grass to the safety of the shrubbery, where they laid the Commander on the ground. He scrambled to his feet, and Jane tried to look as if she knew how to use the gun.

"I will not be your prisoner!" he declared. "I have the right to be executed, under the Shadow Convention!"

"We've no interest in prisoners or executions, thank you," said the Doctor. "Now - one question - who's commanding the Tenth Fleet?"

"General Staal, the Undefeated!"

"Ah. So, your plan is to flood this planet with caesofine concentrate and turn it into a clone world for breeding soldiers."

"How do you..."

"Because we're time travellers, like you Sontarans, and General Staal's operation on Earth is _famous_. There's just one problem - you've overshot the target. This planet won't develop the technology to disseminate the poison, er, clonefeed, for two hundred years - they haven't even done the internal combustion engine yet. Just reset the co-ordinates for, ooh, 2009, maybe a year or two earlier, and you'll be fine."

"But..."

"No need to thank me, you can tell the General you did an extensive survey of eighteenth-century technology and those are your conclusions. Now, give him his gun, Jane - off you go - or shall we walk you to your capsule?"

"I am perfectly capable of remembering where I parked!" Commander Skorr stalked off into the wood.

"Are you sure he'll leave?" asked Miss Oswald quietly.

"Oh, I think so. We'll follow discreetly, just to make sure. Do you want to come, Miss Austen, or must you get back to your friends?"

Of course Jane wanted to come.

"But you'll catch your death of cold!" exclaimed Miss Oswald. "Doctor, give her your coat."

Jane accepted, gratefully; there was a frost on the ground, and now the activity of the last few minutes was over she was feeling the chill. They walked carefully through the wood until they heard a clanging sound ahead.

"That'll be him opening the door," said the Doctor. Jane thought she could see a tall dark shape behind the bushes - and then she gasped as a great metal sphere, covered with a criss-cross design, rose through the trees and shot up into the sky, trailing fire as it flew. The Doctor ran into the place where it had been, stamping on the ground. "Making sure no sparks take hold in the undergrowth," he explained.

"And now we need to go after them?" enquired Miss Oswald.

"Go after who?"

"Well, you just seem to have redirected a plot to poison this planet to 2009. Don't we have to go and stop the Sontarans?"

"No, no need," said the Doctor. "General Staal, the Undefeated..." - he raised an eyebrow - "...he's one I defeated earlier. Or, to be fair, a boy called Luke Rattigan did."

"Do you mean that Commander Skorr will return to his fleet and find them beaten?" asked Jane.

"Not yet - it's one of the complications of time travel," he said. "From your point of view, the Sontarans won't carry out their plan for two centuries. But an earlier version of me will be there - was there, from my point of view - to help stop them."

"Because you can travel back as well as forwards through time," said Jane, trying to absorb the possibilities.

"Yes."

"So we don't have to save the world today," said Miss Oswald.

"We've saved Hampshire tonight - or rather, Miss Austen has! You were magnificent!"

Jane shook her head. "If you and Miss Oswald had not been there, my friends and I would have died - none of us would have believed he was dangerous."

"But you took him out single-handed! You were brilliant!" said Miss Oswald.

"I was fortunate - if the Doctor had not mentioned the weak point on his neck..."

He looked pleased. "I always try to work that into the conversation when Sontarans are around. But _you_ listened and acted on it - you pack quite a punch!"

He exchanged glances with Miss Oswald, then looked at Jane again. "Do you want to come with us?"

"Where?"

"Anywhere!" he said. "Our ship can take us anywhere, anytime you choose. Come and see, it's not far away..."

Jane was thinking as they walked through the wood. "You can travel back in time."

"Yes!" 

"So - we could rescue Mary Queen of Scotland from her cruel death?"

"Ah," said the Doctor. "No, we couldn't. There are fixed points of history we can't change, or the whole thing falls apart."

"So what is the point of time travel if you can't put things right?"

"Often we're preserving the timeline," said Miss Oswald. "If we hadn't stopped the Sontarans tonight, they would have changed Earth's history - they could have wiped out the human race so the future I know wouldn't exist."

"And you would not be born?"

"No - you made sure I still exist! Here we are..."

They pushed through some more bushes - and Jane laughed out loud. This "ship" was even odder than the Sontaran's globe - a tall blue wooden box, only a few feet wide.

"You cannot take me on board," she said. "Indeed, it must be very cramped for the two of you."

"You'd be surprised," said Miss Oswald. "Once you get inside, there's a whole world in there."

"You make it sound like a book!"

"Oh, that's a _good_ way of putting it," said Miss Oswald. "Another room opening every time you turn a page!"

Jane tried to imagine rooms unfolding inside the box. "If I came, I could write books such as no one has ever imagined," she said, to herself as much as anyone else.

"No, no, no!" said the Doctor. "You can't invent science fiction, that's Mary Shelley's job. It's another fixed point."

"I thought you wanted me to... 'jazz up the gothic bits of _Northanger Abbey_ '?"

Miss Oswald gasped. "You... heard us talking?"

"I was in the hall, and you weren't keeping your voices down."

"Oh - I'm so sorry - I was really rude, and I didn't mean it, I really didn't..."

Jane looked back at the house. "I can't come with you. I am engaged to be married."

The Doctor smiled. "I've taken runaway brides before. Time travel, remember - we can always get back for the big day."

"NO!" cried Miss Oswald. "You can't get married. It's that boy, isn't it - Mr Bigg-Something?"

"Harris Bigg-Wither," said Jane stiffly. "A young man of good breeding and a kind heart."

"You can't marry him! Your writing..."

"Mr Bigg-Wither greatly admires my writing. I will be able to work without worrying about how I can support myself."

"But the covers!" wailed Miss Oswald. "You can't have 'Jane Bigg-Wither' on the book covers. It will sound awful!"

"I wouldn't use my real name. _If_ I ever find a publisher who will take them, I thought they should be 'By a Lady'."

"For now - yes. But - I can tell her, can't I, Doctor? - you _are_ going to be published, and you're going to be one of the greatest writers in the English language. Your name will be famous - and it's definitely Jane Austen."

"It _was_ me you came to see," said Jane. "You came back in time to see _me_."

"I love your books so much!" said Miss Oswald. "And - you! You're even more amazing than I thought you would be! I..."

Suddenly she lurched forward, throwing her arms around Jane; they gazed at one another for a moment, and then that mouth was pressed against her own, they were sharing their breath, and Jane felt a warmth she had never known. Her body trembled, like the string of a violin vibrating at Clara's touch, and her soul sang with a music she had never heard. At last she understood the words of Solomon's song: _How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! How much better is thy love than wine!_

"There's something I need to check in the TARDIS," said a voice from somewhere that seemed a long way off; it brought them back to the dark wood for a moment, as they looked around to see the Doctor hurrying into the blue box. Clara stared at her, uncertainly, and then Jane laughed, and pulled her back into that warm embrace. The taste of her lips, the scent of her hair, the wonder in those fine dark eyes when they finally separated, holding each other's arms; these were things Jane would always remember. _Clara._ Everything had become clear.

"You are right," she said. "I can't marry Harris Bigg-Wither."

"Then you'll come with us?"

"Perhaps. But not now. I can't run away; I must go back and tell them I have changed my mind."

Clara nodded. "I should have known - you're too honest and brave not to face the music!"

Jane did not feel very brave, or honest; she certainly had no intention of explaining her real reasons to the Biggs, nor even to Cassandra. But she must break with Harris before she could do anything else.

"I will have to leave Manydown tomorrow," she said. "But I think you and the Doctor can find me, if you want to. Here, you had better have his coat." She took it off, and handed it to Clara. Then she pulled out the broken pieces of ivory from her pocket. "And I want you to have this."

Clara gazed at what remained of the little portrait. "Thank you. I will treasure it. I don't know what I can give _you_..."

"Oh, you have given me something much more wonderful than a picture!" said Jane. "And I will treasure it far more."

The door of the box opened, and the Doctor cautiously looked out. "Decided yet?"

"Yes. I have to go back now. But I hope we may meet again one day."

"Probably," he said. "You never know when the world'll need saving. But I know you'll be ready to do it. Goodbye, Miss Austen." He disappeared inside.

"Goodbye, Jane," whispered Clara. She walked into the box, then turned and kissed Jane one more time before closing the door.

And then there was the strangest sound, as if the earth was gasping and groaning, and - instead of ascending into the heavens trailing fire, like the Sontaran capsule - the TARDIS simply faded into empty space.

Jane shivered as she walked back to the lawn and the house beyond it. The hours ahead would be a challenge. But there was no doubt in her mind. She had never imagined she would find the meaning of love in another woman, let alone one who travelled back and forth through the centuries in a box; she knew, though, that no man she had ever met could offer half of what Clara had given her in those few moments. Not Tom LeFroy, certainly not poor Harris.

She was Jane Austen, scourge of the Sontarans, consort of Clara Oswald, and one of the greatest writers of the English language. She would think of something to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * At this time, pockets were a separate item rather than sewn into one's clothing; they appear to have been tied on between petticoats, and I _think_ there was a gap somewhere in the top skirt so that one could reach them without pulling up one's dress.
> 
> I was very tempted to make Manydown Park the home of Luke Rattigan's Academy in _The Sontaran Stratagem_ and _The Poison Sky_ ; the snags were that  
> 1) Manydown Park was demolished in 1965  
> 2) the Rattigan Academy was in Richmond, part of Greater London, about 45 miles from the site in Hampshire  
> 3) the house in _The Sontaran Stratagem_ doesn't look very like [Manydown](http://www.lostheritage.org.uk/houses/lh_hampshire_manydownpark_info_gallery.html).  
>  But if anyone wants to handwave this so that the Sontarans base themselves in the same place 207 years later - they moved the house and rebuilt it, or something like that - it's fine by me.

**Author's Note:**

> Talking about her writing, Jane Austen referred to "the little bit (two inches wide) of ivory on which I work with so fine a brush, as produces little effect after much labour".
> 
> Famously, Jane is reported to have accepted a proposal from her friends' brother, Harris Bigg-Wither, on 1 December 1802, but changed her mind by the morning. Early in 1803, she sold a version of _Northanger Abbey_ , then called _Susan_ , to London publisher Richard Crosby for £10, but he never did anything with the book; Jane's brother Henry bought it back in 1816, and it was finally published, with the heroine renamed Catherine, after her death.


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